The Lions of Lannister
by The Warped Hatter
Summary: Set at the end of the war Cersei has fled to the mountains to avoid a trial after losing everything. There she waits wondering if she'll ever see her brother again. Warning: twincest and character death.


He had left as Brienne knew he would. A month together watching the world change and grow around them; she was grateful for the little time they had shared. He said he loved her and she believed him, but somewhere deep inside, Jaime, would never truly belong to her.

Brienne had her month of love with Jaime Lannister. After the one night they shared together during the battles of Westeros, she hadn't expected to see him again, but when the wars ended there he was. Brienne of Tarth had been very lucky. She had always known that one day he would leave her. So when she awoke that morning to find no arms around her, only herself tangled in the sheets, with his note and his sword left on the dressing table beside them, Brienne had felt prepared. And yet, she still wept. She had known then she would never see him again.

In her own way, Cersei had always known Jaime would come back to her. Though she would never voice it aloud, she was waiting for him every day. The war was over and Cersei had lost. She had fled back to the mountains in a small Lannister residence, taking with her only a handful of servants. Tyrion had taken everything, he had Casterly Rock, he had her children as his wards; he was sat at Daenerys Targaryen's side. He would have everything he always wanted. The only reason Cersei was safe from facing trial now, was that Tyrion knew there was no reason to hunt for her when she had nothing left. There were bigger and better men to make an example of. This was Cersei's punishment, isolation and a place to die.

She could not remember coming to this house in the mountains as a child, it did not suit Cersei here; there were days where she felt she was going quite mad. She longed to begin again, to go back to her childhood. Everything had been so simple when they were children, back before Jaime's first sword when the two of them were the same. She missed those days and she missed him. He was always there in the back of her mind, whispering her name in the silence of the night. It had been so long since he was truly here… She had not heard news of him since she left Kings Landing. The last she knew was that he had joined forces with Tyrion. He had fought bravely in the war and Daenerys Targaryen would reward him and pardon him for killing her father. Cersei would have known if her Jaime had been killed.

Perhaps he would never come for her; he had abandoned her when she took her penance walk. At first she deluded herself, convinced herself he had just not received her letter… She was naïve. Their relationship had changed so much, where they broken? Cersei could remember a time where a thought did not cross Jaime's head that was not her own also; but he was changing. He was a different man when he returned to her from captivity. He did not belong to her anymore. Had Jaime changed so much that he would ignore her even now? Would he let her rot away here as Tyrion had?

"Come back to me," she found herself whispering, one hand gently stroked along the window she was sat beside. Her green eyes gazing out at the great land before her, sometimes she would imagine a rider of gold, speeding towards the manor. She would rise to meet him, glance out of the window, and Jaime would vanish before her eyes. 'I was a fool to love you', she could remember the cruel words she'd snarled at him; had he believed her truly? Is that why he never came back?

It was never supposed to be like this. The days went on forever; she was getting older and older. Eventually, Cersei thought bitterly, 'I will be a bitter old woman with nothing. Perhaps I truly am meaningless in terms of the new realm; perhaps they will let me live out my days here, harmless and useless'.

A younger and more beautiful queen had come to replace her. Daenerys Targaryen would ensure a new reign of prosperity to the Seven Kingdoms. All over Westeros, the common people already sang songs in her name, of her victory. Her dragons ruled the skies and people spoke of Robert and his rebellion, of the Baratheon reign as if it was merely a dark cloud over the Seven Kingdoms. Cersei was Queen of a hated era. The Lannisters would live on through Tyrion and through her precious children, but Cersei would die forgotten. Else she is remembered as the whore queen who took her brother to bed.

Cersei dreamt of Joff that night, she dreamt of the first time she held him. The moment the midwife placed him in her arms, Cersei looked into his face for the first time and she knew he was perfect. This was the perfect little life she and Jaime had created together. There was no purer being in the world. Cersei remembered how peaceful her baby was when she held him, Jaime's arm around her shoulder, glowing with pride. Joff had wept when Robert came to see his child. He screeched when the King held him, almost as if he knew how Cersei hated his lord father as well.

Robert had loathed her. To him, Cersei was always cold; he may as well be married to a beautiful ice sculpture. There was a time she convinced herself this lesser King would do for her husband. She could lure any man with her looks since she was a mere girl. The stable boys would rush to tend her pony when she returned for a ride; although her sweet Jaime would always get there first. Grown men would gape at her as she passed. Cersei enjoyed it. The power she had over men made her powerful, it drove her to see how she could control men without a sword or a title as Jaime did. She did not long for Robert Baratheon's love, as she had for Prince Rhaegar's, but Cersei had expected it nonetheless. She would trick him into falling in love with her. But even that was naïve. Robert stumbled to bed on their wedding night, fumbling with his robes, grunting in her ear, inebriated, he had to be to come to her at all. The woman he did not want. She was beautiful, he would admit, but he didn't want her for his wife. He whispered 'Lyanna' into her ear with a sweetness she would never hear in his voice again. It shouldn't have hurt her but it had. And now it felt like centuries since Robert had been alive.

"Marry me, Cersei."

Jaime's voice rang through her ears so loudly for a moment she thought him to have been in the room with her. She bolted upright in bed, her hair sticking to her forehead; Cersei's eyes darted around the darkened chamber, coming in to focus on the open window. A cold breeze filled her chamber, it must have blown open. She let out a sigh of relief, pushing back the blankets and climbing out of bed. She slept with a knife under her pillows now; she doubted Tyrion, Queen Daenerys or any of her followers would send another Gregor Clegane after her, but if men did come for her blood, she wanted chance to end it herself. After her penance walk, she swore to herself she would never suffer humiliation like that again. She held her knife in her hand as she walked to the window to close it. The gentle wind felt good on her face, Cersei let out a gentle sigh as she gazed up at the moon; it was only half full tonight although the dark sky was perfectly clear.

Cersei was about to turn back to her bed when she heard a soft breathing behind her. Someone was in the room behind her, someone who had climbed through her window. Her hand tightened on the knife and she turned, stabbing blindly at the air. Her blade slashed across her assailant as the man leapt back, merely grazed. She was panting hard, holding the knife in front of her, her chest rising and falling. Cersei tried to keep the fear out of her, she had to stay calm; if she was calm she would live through this.

"Sweet sister."

And then the man stepped out of the shadows. There he was, her Jaime, his right forearm stained with blood from where she'd stabbed him. He gazed at her with eyes so like her own; there was something frightening about his smile. But here he was, her Jaime… Had Tyrion sent him to bring her back to Kings Landing for a trial? He was unarmed and not even in his armour, she noticed. Why was he here? What had he come for? She hated that now she could look into her brother's eyes and know nothing of him. He had changed so much. They were not one anymore.

"What are you doing here, Jaime?"

He didn't answer her, he moved to stand beside her, and Cersei raised the knife at first, though she made no move to attack him. Her twin brother settled himself against the window ledge, gazing out at the half moon in the sky, "You know, we must have come here as children, but I have almost no memories of this place."

She didn't answer him; Cersei's eyes didn't leave his face. His expression was so foreign; his words were casual and lazy, as if he had not just broken into her chambers. The graze on his arm didn't seem to bother him either, and he still smiled. Yet Cersei noticed it was not a happy smile.

"Well I do have one actually. I came here once with our brother after Father took you with him to Kings Landing, I never felt more anxious on that day than I had my whole life before," his fingers ran along the window pane as hers had done only a day before. Jaime closed his eyes, his face pressing against the glass, "I was so happy when you came to me that night, in the tavern? Do you remember? You had disguised as a common little maid," he chuckled softly to himself, "You were always so beautiful, but right then, right then, you… shone. On that night you were perfect."

Cersei's eyes hardened, "Jaime, what are you doing here?"

And then, he looked up, his eyes staring right into hers. Cersei knew everything about him again. She knew why he was here, why he looked so sad. He didn't need to speak. She let out a gasp and turned to run towards the door to raise the alarm. She did it on impulse, but she knew that even if an alarm was raised, Jaime would still get to her.

Nobody had sent him. He was here to kill her himself. He would have nobody put her on trial. He had come for her tonight.

Cersei felt his hands seize her around the waist and haul her away from the door, she shrieked, her blade stabbing frantically at him, yet she seemed to miss or graze at his shoulders and arms. Jaime tossed her down onto her bed as he would a rag doll, he bore down on top of her, Cersei's arm shot out and she plunged the knife into his side. Her eyes were wide and horrified as she scrambled to snatch the knife back; Jaime ripped it from himself and tossed it aside. Her hands fought desperately against his, screaming for help, screaming for him to come to his senses. Her legs kicking frantically as he straddled her waist as he had a thousand times before, her nails tore at his arms as he fought to seize her by the wrists. She snarled as he caught her wrists, forcing them down onto the bed above her head, Cersei opened her eyes and saw him struggling above her, fresh tears running down his cheeks.

"Jaime, no! No!" she screamed, "Let go of me! Let me go-! HELP!" she fought to get her arms free, golden hair flying across her face, one of his hands was on her neck, intimate as a lover for a second, and then he began to squeeze. Cersei gasped, she gazed up at him frantically, he squeezed harder, Jaime sobbed soundlessly; his head hung long golden hair in his eyes as he released her hands, his two clasping around her neck, they were shaking, the gold felt cold on her throat. Cersei flailed under him, her hands clasping his shoulders, nails clawing at his skin, she could hear him sobbing her name, an angry, passionate whisper. He held on until she let go, her hands falling back down to the bed.

She could hear his sobbing, she felt light and weightless, she wanted to hold him; she wanted to hold him so badly. It was alright now. Nothing seemed to matter anymore. Jaime was clinging to her, she felt tiny in his arms. He kissed her hair, her cheeks, her forehead, cradling her in his arms like a child, whispering her name over and over.

Cersei Lannister died happily, knowing Jaime had come back to her before she died.

He had hoped Jaime would forget their sister in time. He hoped Jaime would stay in that little house in Kings Landing, he loved that ugly wench. She was no Cersei, she was good. She brought out all the best in Jaime. Stranger things were happening in this new age; dragons roamed the skies, the Hound was making a good woman a very happy wife and Tyrion himself was Lord of Casterly Rock. If Tyrion had spoken to Jaime last night would he have convinced him to stay?

He'd ridden here as fast as he could as soon as Brienne told him Jaime had gone. She had come with him to the mountain house Cersei had fled to; he'd convinced the poor girl to stay in the courtyard as he went into the Lannister home with only Bronn at his side. The servants had left in the night with Jaime's gold in their pockets. Tyrion had hoped to find the house empty, prayed that Jaime had taken Cersei away. His foolish brother had always dreamed of marrying their sister, somewhere far away where prying eyes could not judge them. Of course Cersei was too cruel to ever consider such a notion, but now she'd lost everything perhaps she had been persuaded? He had wanted that for Jaime, but as soon as he entered the house Tyrion knew.

They were lying in Cersei's bed together, their eyes closed as if they could be sleeping. Their foreheads touching, hands intertwined. Jaime's chest was bloodied from where he'd taken his own life; Cersei wore a purple necklace of bruise around her elegant throat.

Here lay the lions of Lannister, come together at last in death.


End file.
